


He's then and now, forever. We're then and now, forever

by AmyJorumStitchery



Series: He's the kind of love that makes a whirl in your mind [32]
Category: Tim Curry - Fandom
Genre: Anesthesia, Babyboy is being loopy from anesthesia, Caretaking, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Some Humor, Some Spinal Tap references, Tim is high as fuck, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wisdom Teeth, höhö how ironic, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24791602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyJorumStitchery/pseuds/AmyJorumStitchery
Relationships: The only shit I wanna write about, The only thing that matters, Tim Curry and my OC
Series: He's the kind of love that makes a whirl in your mind [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1253372
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	He's then and now, forever. We're then and now, forever

"Ow, damn!" 

Tim dropped his fork on the plate and clutched his cheek, groaning quietly as he rubbed the sorest spot.

For the last few days, I had seen how he struggled and how the pain and discomfort had increased to the level that it interfered with his sleep and affected his general mood, and I didn't recognize him sometimes. He was irritable and would bicker with me over the smallest things or he'd come home from a long workday and be in a bad mood and wanting to be left alone. He wasn't interested in eating very much either since he had trouble chewing and even open his mouth properly. The whole side of his face was tender and swollen and he popped ibuprofen as if they were candy just to take the roughest edges of the pain away. I didn't know how many times I had told him to go see a dentist, but there's only so many times I can repeat myself to what was mostly deaf ears.

"Tim, you _have_ to get this taken care of!" I pleaded with him and what I hoped would be the last time.

"I don't have time right now!" he snapped and picked up the plate and disappeared out to the kitchen.

Putting my fork down, I followed him into the kitchen where I saw him searching through a cabinet for something to take the pain away, he took two pills and strained to even swallow them with a glass of water.

"You're in pain, baby! How long will you go on with this?"

"Look," he said, clearly ticked off, "I don't have the time now, but I will, so stop nagging me!"

"I _have_ to nag because nothing would happen if I _didn't_."

He propped one hand on the counter behind himself and rubbed his cheek with the other.

"You can be so fucking stubborn, Tim," I took a step closer without touching him, "and I don't nag to be a bitch-wife, I only want what's best for you."

He muttered something and was reluctant to look at me, but I knew _he knew_ I was right. I had no idea why he was so adamant right now. It had nothing to do with him being afraid since he'd had pretty much all of his teeth fixed in different stages 'cause I knew he hated the teeth he was born with, so he was used to seeing a dentist.

"And besides, how do you expect to do a good job when you can hardly speak?" I continued, "it's only a matter of time before someone you work for says anything and then you _have_ to get it fixed."

Rubbing his face, "Yes, alright! I will call tomorrow..."

*

I was sitting on the balcony with a smoke and a magazine when Tim stepped through the french doors. His face was like an open book of emotions and it was obvious something was not right.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" His cheek was even more swollen than it had been when he left the same morning and I couldn't help but to comment, "Aww, Tim, that doesn't look right!"

He sat down in the lounge chair beside mine, "I called," he said simply and took out his pack of smokes and put a cigarette between his lips.

"That's good! And what did they say?"

He dug his hand in his pant pocket and fished up his lighter, "They said I could come in right away..." He tried to spark a light, but it didn't work, so he shook the lighter.

"And..?"

"And because I'm a smoker, they told me I have to quit for at least 24 hours before the procedure because it's safer for me. It has something to do with the risk of bleeding and the blood vessels..." He got the lighter to work and managed one inhale before I reached over and yanked the cigarette out of his mouth and put it out.

"What are you--" he stared at me in bewilderment.

"So they want you not to smoke for 24 hours before the procedure?" I asked just to see if he would catch my drift. 

"Well, yeah," he said like he wasn't aware of the fact that he just lit a cigarette.

I stubbed out my own cigarette and threw my magazine on the table between us, "And here you are, not even aware that you just did..." 

There was a shift in his eyes and I could see he wasn't really aware of it. Moving to stand, I reached out my hand, making it clear that I was confiscating his cigarettes.

"Gimme," I said and motioned for him to hand them over.

He gave a deep sigh and reached his hand to the inner pocket of his jacket, slowly extracting the pack and pressed it into my palm.

"This can be a good thing, Tim, for both of us. How about if we quit together? It'll be easier to help each other when we have the urge."

"I can't ask you to do that, Ames..."

"And you didn't, Tim, I'm doing this 'cause I _want_ to. To help you."

"You would really do that for me?" His eyebrows raising in a surprised look.

"Of course!"

He gave me a little smile of appreciation and I wanted to touch him, sit on his lap and tell him that I was on his side and that I was here for him, and if we supported each other - we could stay away from cigarettes, but I knew he didn't wanna be touched right now. Our relationship had always been very physical and we had always hugged and touched each other a lot, ever since the beginning, but Tim was in so much pain now and that made him edgy and fidgety - and he had made it clear, not with words, but with his general body language, that he didn't want me to touch him right now.

*

I heard the all familiar lyrics to 'Sex Farm' as I turned the corner to find Tim reclined on a gurney, holding an ice-pack to his cheek, his free hand was clumsily tapping the beat on his thigh. Locking eyes, I immediately saw that he wasn't really present and that his brain was nestled safely with anaesthetics and some pain killers, probably. His voice rose in crescendo and his eyes grew really big as he kinda howled when he acknowledged me being there.

"There she is...! he exclaimed, "there's my girl..!"

His obvious state and the way he almost fell off the gurney when he saw me made me laugh and a nurse had to rush to his aid and push him back to a reclining position.

"There there, Mr Curry, you almost took a little tumble there."

"Taking a tumble, taking a tumble...I almost took a little tumble...I need to watch myself so I won't make a scrumble..." Tim sang in a smooth jazz voice as he snapped his fingers to the imaginary music in his head.

"He's still very much affected by the anaesthesia," the nurse explained to me, "and he's been given extra pain killers since the procedure took longer than expected as the tooth was harder to extract than we had initially thought."

"Oh my god," I laughed quietly, observing Tim.

"And he's gonna be a bit loopy for a few hours, but that's completely normal."

"But I can take him home?" I asked.

"Yes, he's all ready to go. An orderly will come by shortly and help you to your car."

"Good, thanks." 

The nurse turned to Tim, "So I'm gonna go now, Mr Curry, now that you have someone to pick you up."

Tim reacted slowly, "You're gonna order chicken curry...?" he asked, "you should definitely do that...I wanna eat...I'm hungry! Don't tell anyone that though..." his speech was slow and slurred and he drawled his words. He shut his eyes and started humming to his music again.

The nurse suppressed a laugh and turned to me, "Just make sure he isn't left by himself for the next hour or so as he is a bit confused, as you might have noticed."

I just grinned taking in the situation.

"And this is some extra pain medicine if he is in too much pain later on," she explained and gave me a little box.

"Ok, great. Is there anything else I need to be aware of or do..?"

"No, the novocaine will disappear on its own within the next few hours and he will be more lucid. You can make sure he drinks something cold to help with the swelling, though."

I nodded and thanked her again and she gathered some stuff and disappeared, I turned to Tim.

"Hey, babe, you're feeling pretty good, I see," I quipped at the sight of him bobbing his head to the music only he heard.

His eyes opened slowly and judging by his reaction he must've forgotten I was even there since his face lit up with pure elation again when he laid his eyes on me.

"Amy! There you are...oh my god...I love you so much..." he said as he reached for me, "how are you feeling..?" he asked, but he didn't wait for my response and jabbered on, "I had a little...procedure done..." He pressed the ice pack to his cheek and looked very confused, "I can't remember what they did to me...but they were horrible...they used a sword and I told them 'no, that's not nice'..."

"They used a sword?" I exclaimed in mock-shock.

"Yes, and they wanted me to hold it and...I held it really tight..." he made a sudden move with his hand like he swung the sword around, "so that it wouldn't fall on the floor..."

"Aww, my little guy, you're so good!"

"And they stuck me with an invisible knife..." Tim continued.

He was very swollen and had to focus on every word and when he removed his ice-pack  
I saw that he still had dental stuff in his mouth, and I wasn't sure if he said 'invisible' or 'invincible'. Not that it was relevant, really, but I played along and reached out and ran my hand through his hair.

"But you're so brave though, Tim," I said, speaking to him like he was a child as I comforted him, "having a sword that close to your mouth and all."

"Is my mouth closed..?" he asked and looked straight into my eyes.

"No, it's open, you're talking to me and everything."

"I'm not using my telepathic forces?!" His question was genuine and it squeezed my heart.

Shaking my head, I took his hand to help him to sit up, "You're ready to stand a little?"

"Where are you taking me..?" he asked.

"Home, Tim, we're going home."

"Home? But where am I now..?"

"You're at the dentist, Tim, you've had a wisdom tooth removed, but it's all over and we're going home now."

"I like this bed..." he said and bounced on it a little, "you think we can take it with us...and they won't notice...? Right under their noses... Like that!" he added and tried to snap his fingers.

I gave an amused exhale and positioned myself between his legs to slide him off the gurney and get him into the wheelchair, he towered over me even though he was slouching and I had to use all my force to keep him standing, and when he had gotten his balance somewhat he looked straight at me, sorta. He was a bit misty-eyed and he tilted his head to the side and moaned miserably,

"Oh Amy, your hair is so much longer than mine...we should get me a wig..."

"You wanna wig, baby?"

Tim's attention span was very short and he jumped from one subject to another, acting and talking like a child who had drunk alcohol.

"Look at this!" he said very dramatically and pointed at the crook of his arm where he had a little band-aid, "they stabbed my arm...and they put poison in me...and then they left the wound wide open..."

"No, they didn't Tim, that's where they put the IV."

"Ivy...? Who's that..? And why did they stab me with her..?" 

I grabbed him as best as I could and helped him to sit down in the wheelchair.

"There we go, baby," I said, "just sit here and rest, someone will be here soon and help me." Absently patting him over his hair.

"You are so good to have around...sweetie..." he said and touched me, "you are like a knight...but you have no armour...we should get you an armour!" His face lit up again as he said that. 

"Maybe we can go out tomorrow and look for an armour, huh?"

"Yes, let's do that! And let's...match them...I wanna match and we...can fight crimes together..." He looked down on his legs, "Excuse me...but why am I sitting like....this? Where are my feet..?"

"They are right there, Tim!"

"Are they different size?"

"Your feet?"

"Yes...am I...do they...have socks on?"

I didn't have time to humour him as an orderly pulled the curtain to our waiting area away and introduced himself.

"Hello, Mr Curry, are we ready to go home?" he asked as he positioned himself behind the wheelchair.

"Are you the taxi driver..?" Tim asked and tried to turn around to look at him.

The orderly started pushing the wheelchair, "I sure am."

"I should get a car that drives...this fast...don't you think, Amy? We need a faster car...like this one..!"

I walked beside Tim in the bright painted corridor, holding the box of pain pills and a piece of paper with some after-care dos and don'ts, "Maybe we can go look for a car tomorrow when we buy our armours, what do you say?"

Tim didn't respond but turned to me very slowly, "What do you mean...?"

"Remember you wanted matching armours to fight crimes in?"

"I said that..?"

I nodded.

"I can't be a...superhero..."

"You can't?"

"No, because I have a...moustache on my lips...and that's a dead give-away." He reached up to touch his face, "Oh my god...Amy, my moustache is gone..!"

I scoffed, "No, it's not, Tim, it's right there."

"I have no fingers either..." he said absent-mindedly as he kept dabbing them of his cheeks.

Wheeling Tim through the automatic doors and on to the paved walkway, the orderly asked me which direction the car was and we started walking to it.

"It's so bright outside!" Tim said as he slowly put his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, "we're not gonna...burn up, are we? Is the sun here..?"

We soon reached the car and the orderly helped Tim on his feet as I opened the door for him.

"Are you kidnapping me..?" Tim asked.

We got him down on the passenger seat and I thanked the orderly who returned back inside with the wheelchair.

"Goodbye!" Tim said out loud, but to no one, then he turned to me, "He was nice...we should hire him...he had three ears..."

"No, he didn't, Tim, he had two ears, just like you and me."

"He had a face though..." Tim mumbled.

"Thank god!"

Helping Tim to fasten his seatbelt, he kinda collapsed against the headrest and sluggishly moved his head from side to side,

"Amy?"

"Yes, Tim?"

"I feel very good!"

"I can imagine, you are high as a kite, baby."

His face suddenly crumpled with emotion and he let out a little moan.

"What, baby?"

"Where are we?"

"In the car, it's alright, I'm here."

"I'm hungry...can we eat...?"

"You can't Tim, you're on a strict liquid and mush diet today."

That news didn't seem to take very well and he hunched over where he was sat and buried his face in his hands, "So I will...never eat...food again?" he asked and let his hands fall on his lap, looking utterly horrified by that thought, "Are you the food police..?"

"Of course you will eat again, but just not today." 

"I love food..." turning slowly to look at me, he couldn't really focus and kinda looked _through_ me. He tried to smile, but his face was too numb, so he just made a little noise, "and I love you...I love you, Amy..." Touching his own face again, "I have no face left...!" Leaning back on the headrest, he mumbled something while he was slowly drumming his hands on his thighs, "I feel so good..!" he said again and laughed a little to himself.

I could see that he was about to conk out, so I started the car to drive us home, turning off the music not to disturb him. He woke slowly though when a car honked its horn and he started to ask me where he was and what had happened. Luckily we were close to home then and as I was driving on our street, he started telling me the entire plot to Spinal Tap and The Shining, I had seen both those movies and he knew that, and he gradually mixed them into _one_ movie and the longer he talked about them, the more he trailed off and the less I understood.

I hurried out of the car and around to his side, opening the car door, I saw that he was fiddling with his seatbelt and that he couldn't unfasten himself, "Amy, this is broken..."

Leaning over him, I unbuckled him and he made a "whoop" sound but remained completely still.

"Alright, Tim, you ready to step out of the car?"

"We're in...a car..?"

"Yes, but we have stopped now and we're going inside the house."

"Did you steal the chair with wheels..?"

"No, baby, we left that at the dentist. Come on, let me help you."

Grabbing his arm, I put it around my shoulder and tugged him as he kinda poured his upper body out of the car and onto me, he was heavy and big, and it took all my strength to keep him from falling. I managed to get him into a standing position, propped against the car, and I could close the door.

"Alright, you're gonna have to help me, Tim," I said and touched him to get his attention, "we're going to the house, and I can't carry you, so you will have to help me, ok?"

"You're so little, Amy...I love that...I love that you are small because then I can...pick you up...like a little can of coke..."

"Yes, usually you can, but not now, now we're walking. Up to the house."

"Can we eat..? I'm hungry..."

"Not straight away, we're gonna go inside and rest first."

"You know what...we should do..? We should watch Spinal Tap...we should put on...our armour and watch...Spinal Pap, yes we should..."

"Yes, let's go inside and we can watch Spinal Tap, Tim."

"That's a good movie!"

"It's very good."

"And I love that movie...it's...why is this blue..?"

He slowed down a bit and I was afraid that if he stopped altogether I would never get him in the house, so I put my hand on the small of his back and gave him a little push forwards and his face twisted in a grimace and he sobbed a little.

"What is it, baby?"

"I love you...but you are very...brusque..." he explained to me in a whiney kind of voice, "you have to hold me...so I won't fly away...I don't wanna...float away..." He looked straight ahead and the tone of his voice changed in one second, "ohmygod are we supposed to...climb that hill? Are we...going mountain climbing...why are we rockclimbing..?"

Tim was referring to the little paved walkway which had the tiniest incline and that led up to the first step of the porch.

He touched his own face, "I'm very swollen...I have stuff in my mouth...Amy, why do I have...stuff..." He tried to click his tongue but he was too numb and swollen, "my tongue is gone..!" He moved his lips around to try and push it out his mouth.

"That's just dental stuff, Tim, gauze or something, and don't take it out!"

"I'm hungry..."

I managed to get him up the steps and to the front door.

"Tim, baby, we're home now."

"There's a gnome..?"

"Yes, and he's inside the house."

Opening the door with one hand as I held onto him with the other, we stepped inside and I asked him to stand still so that I could untie his shoes. Then I led him through the house and to the living room - getting him up the stairs to the bedroom seemed too much of a hassle, so I opted for the least strenuous alternative.  
Easing him down the couch he just sat there, looking sleepy and confused, his mouth partly open as he had his cheek full of medical gauze, making his face look very lopsided. Sitting down beside him I combed my fingers through his hair, looking at him with sympathetic eyes.

"You should rest some," I suggested, "and we can watch Spinal Tap later."

He closed his eyes and his mouth drowsily chewed air, groaning incoherent words while he moved slowly and in a way that told me he didn't know what to do with himself. He reached out a slow hand to grab a pillow in the corner of the couch, but missed it on the first try and fell down on his stomach without having time to react properly and hold himself up. With his face down on the cushioning, he tried to grab it again. 

"Here, let me help you," I said and reached for it. Showing him that I had it when he kept searching for it. He made an attempt to look at me, but his eyes couldn't really focus and that seemed to make him upset. He took it from my hand and pressed it to his chest. "Do you want me to help you lie down, Tim?"

"Baby?"

"Yes, Tim?"

"This pillow...it's not soft..." 

He whimpered quietly. A genuine agonising sound that cut straight into my emotional centre and created a feeling of acceleration in my chest as his obvious distressing state made his face crumple at the discovery of a seemingly trivial realisation that a pillow was not soft enough, and how heartbreaking it was for him in the condition he was in.  
It cleared my mind of all thoughts except: "My little guy isn't very big right now and I must protect him with my life."   
Sitting down beside him to put my arm around his fragile shoulders, he leaned into me right away while he puled.

"It's ok, Tim, you don't have to use that one." I held him as tight as I could without hurting his face. "Do you want me to get you another one?"

He put it to his face, "But it smells of you...my baby..."

"That's because I use it all the time," I explained to him and smiled.

We sat quietly for a few moments while my hand moved up and down his arm, and I pecked kisses on his forehead. Tim broke the silence when he reached for my hand,

"Jeanine..?"

"Yes, David?"

"Let's watch Spinal Tap...some other summer..."

"Some other summer? You wanna wait that long, Tim?"

"I wanna sleep..."

"That's good, baby, you definitely should." 

Looking down at the man by the crook of my arm, my heart grew yet again and I realized how fucking much I loved him and how the nearness of him made my life bright. I gave a satisfied hum and wiped away tears that had fallen down his face. Dipping my head to his forehead again, my lips pecked many kisses on him before I manoeuvred off the couch to let him stretch out. His eyes were already closed as I helped him lie down and then put a blanket over him. 

"Get some rest, Tim and I'm gonna be right here, alright?"

All I got was a long string of consonants in the form of, "Mmmmmm..."

*

I woke him up a few hours later, he had slept like a baby for five hours and had hardly moved at all during those hours. The sight of him coming to squeezed my heart and I smoothed down his hair with my hand. He groaned with a voice of someone coming out of a deep, dream-filled sleep and he slowly pushed himself to a sitting position.

"How do you feel, baby?"

Dragging his fingers through his hair while he stretched his body and yawned.

"That was some nap!" he exclaimed and was made aware of the gauze he still had in his mouth and he looked a bit surprised and uncomfortable.

"We should change the gauze, Tim." Standing up, I walked to get a trashcan. "Here, dump it here," I said and pointed at the bin.

He leaned towards it and grabbed the gauze with a slow-moving hand. His face grimacing when he pulled the moist, semi bloody compress from his mouth, and he smacked his lips with a disgruntled expression when he had pulled it out, looking like he had tasted something awful. 

Discarding it in the bin, he sat back against the couch, "I have a horrible taste in my mouth."

"I know, but that's normal," I said and rolled a fresh piece of gauze for him to replace the used one. "But you still need to have this." 

"I still have to have it in my mouth?" 

"Just for a few hours, but this one is smaller and won't take up as much space. Come on, open." 

He reluctantly opened his mouth and I helped him press it into place. He looked less than pleased by the fact that he had to have it.

"I think I know the answer to this already," he said and pinched the bridge of his nose, "but I'm not allowed to smoke, I guess..?"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, baby, but no cigarettes for you for at least 72 hours..."

He groaned.

"...and only soft food like pasta and soup."

He just sat there with a flat look, his drowsy eyes listlessly scanning the living room, "Can I at least brush my teeth to try and get rid of this horrible taste?"

I shook my head, "No, sorry, not until tomorrow."

He let out a disapproving puff of air through his nose.

"But you _are_ allowed to rinse your mouth with saltwater a little bit later," I explained and try to make it sound like a little silver lining. 

He blinked up at me and he had never looked more beautiful than now, even though he was swollen, slightly dazed and weary with unkempt hair and a stain on his black t-shirt.  
He was miles away from the public, put-together, dressed-to-the-nines, dapper and elegant man that always had a sun-shiny smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. Now, he was my favourite Tim: unvarnished, low-key, simple, casually dressed and genuine with no cameras to pose for or questions, asked by random strangers, to answer. It was just him - stripped down, and still breathtakingly beautiful.

"Did the dentist give you a list with ways on how to torture me?" he asked half-jokingly.

Sitting down on the couch, I put an arm around him and pressed him to me, a little _too_ roughly judging by the wordless plea from him that I should take it easy.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said as I leaned my head on his shoulder.

He placed his hand on my knee and we just sat there.

"I feel very strange," he said after a few moments, "like I've had the most vivid, crazy dream, but I don't remember anything about it. It's more of a feeling in me, you know. Very weird."

"Yeah, you rambled on pretty good about very random things," I said with a laugh, "things I never thought I'd hear from you."

He angled his head and looked at me, "Not horrible things, I hope? I mean, I didn't curse at anyone or behaved like a total prick?"

"No, no, nothing like that. Just weird, random things. You wanted us to get matching armour..."

"I did what!?"

"...and at one point you exclaimed in horror about your telepathic forces and if you used it or not." 

He chuckled, a bit too vigorously and that made his face hurt, so he made a miserable sound as he rubbed his cheek, but that hurt even more, and he didn't know what to do so he alternated between chuckling and moaning.

"Aww, Tim!" I exclaimed sweetly and wrapped him in a hug and laid his head against my chest with a soft hand, "do you want some pain pills?" 

He nodded. 

"Ok, then I'm gonna get them for you." 

He nodded again and I loosened him from my hug.  
Returning a few moments later with a glass of water and some Tylenol, Tim heaved himself to a more sitting position.

"I can't drink with this in my mouth," he said and pointed to the gauze, "can you get me a straw?"

"No, no straw, the sucking motion can cause more bleeding by dislodging the blood clot," I explained, "but you can take the gauze out when you drink."

He reached for it and pulled it out, making the same distasteful grimace as before as he smacked his lips. Making a subtle "ew" noise as he dumped it in the bin. There was hardly any blood on it and that was a good sign.

"I'm so fresh..." he remarked wryly.

"It's alright, Tim, I don't care," I said and gave him a loving smile.

He returned it and I popped two pills from the box in his hand and pushed the glass of water closer to him, "Remember to drink carefully not to disrupt anything in your mouth."

He swallowed the pills with a few sips of water and then moved to set the glass down, but I told him he should drink the whole thing not to be dehydrated and that he should have at least 5-6 glasses a day.

"Good boy," I praised when he had finished it. Standing up to get him a refill so he could drink whenever he wanted. "And I don't think you need the gauze anymore, either, since there was hardly any blood on it."

"Oh, good."

He sprawled out on his back on the couch and didn't object when I put a blanket over him, even though he usually didn't need it since he was so warm anyway.

"Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you some soup?"

"No, thanks love, I'm alright." Reaching for my hand, he squeezed it.

"You should rest some, Tim."

He nodded and I found it a bit relieving since I expected him to argue with me and say he didn't need to.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Ames."

"Of course, baby."

Dipping down, I gave his forehead a kiss and then brushed him over his hair.

"I'm gonna read on the patio not to disturb you, alright?"

He nodded, quite content, eyes closed.

"Just let me know if you want anything."

He nodded again.

"But I'm gonna check in on you a little later, anyways."

He didn't reply, he was already asleep, so I grabbed my book and tip-toed out of the room.


End file.
